


ash blooms, sweet milk

by KidaTheFreak



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls Online, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Breastfeeding, Lactation, Lactation Kink, Other, Platonic Relationships, Pregnancy, comfort kink, how do you tag for platonically suckin ya pregnant employer's tiddy??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-14 00:28:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17498186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KidaTheFreak/pseuds/KidaTheFreak
Summary: It happens on Solstheim, waiting out an ash storm. They're unpredictable and dangerous to travel in.Being pregnant and stuck waiting out an ash storm complicates things. Teldryn doesn't mind helping out.





	ash blooms, sweet milk

**Author's Note:**

> huh i wrote MESSY FIRSTS and this is the fic im worried about posting. its probably the fear of dudebros seeing a grown elf getting tiddy milk and having a crisis, oh well.
> 
> Anyway, a few little notes since i didnt go into heavy plot:
> 
> -Cricket, my ashlander from the Urshilaku tribe. Theyre intersex. they thought their bits were nonfunctioning in the reproduction department but nope, theyre a baby parent. theyve named their baby Baby.  
> -Cricket and Teldryn are essentially fuckbuddies, but neither have any desire for a romantic relationship.  
> -Theres a tiny bit of unspoken time traveling going on. Cricket's plot makes better sense in the ESO era, but also I couldnt think of anyone theyd fuck from that time period. so bam, i just dropped Cricket in Skyrim era for the sake of this
> 
> also i did a draw at the end, if you wanna jump down for a visual
> 
> unedited and unbeta'd cause im a fuck

The ash storms caught them by surprise.

 

In hindsight, both of them should have seen the signs. The sort of stillness in the air around Solstheim that felt more like a wave pulling back before crashing on the shore, the ash hoppers taking refuge in rock shelters.

 

Even Pabba, Cricket’s gentle giant of a kagouti, shifted restlessly on two legs as he was saddled up in the morning, tossing his head when they tried to loop his harness on.

 

Now, ash whipping around their chitin helmets, Cricket and Teldryn were tugging the harness, Pabba stubbornly dragged behind them.

 

“Your stupid beast is going to get us buried in ash!” Teldryn yelled over the wind and ash trampling through the trees.

 

“Just a little further! There’s a shack not far from here we can hole up in until the storm dies down!” Cricket yelled back, feet sliding precariously in the ash that blanketed the ground. Teldryn gave a few sharp yanks on the kagouti’s tether, then threw it aside with a frustrated sound.

 

“Fetch it! _I_ am not dying out here because _your_ monster is scared of a little ash storm. Let’s go, leave it to the ash that will flay it to the bone. It seems to want that anyway.”

 

He could _feel_ their heated glare through their bug-like helmet, and their pulling only strengthened in determination.

 

“Shut up!” they yelled as he turned to follow the direction Cricket had pointed. Teldryn looked back, crossing his arms as he watched Cricket grapple with their scared mount.

 

“Then get it moving! We can’t stay out here long!”

 

The storm howled louder, almost drowning out his voice, and his visor cleared just in time to see Cricket headbutt the tusked reptile with their helmet, hissing in frustration.

 

“Pabba, so help me Azura, get your ass moving unless you want to die, and take me, Bingbing, and Baby with you, you stubborn netch fart!”

 

Teldryn had to admit, when the big beast narrowed its eyes and tossed its head in determination, he was impressed by Cricket’s ability to out-stubborn anything.

 

Cricket sighed in relief, smacking Pabba’s flank and quickly leading him up the ash mound, Teldryn bracing himself against the storm alongside them.

 

Cricket had been right; cresting the hill, a creaky wooden cabin groaned against the wind but held firm, and the ashlander ushered the kagouti through the cracked doorway and into shelter. Pabba, for all his help in the matter, merely snorted, circled a patch of softer ash that found its way in through the cracks, and laid down to rest.

 

“Bastard.” Teldryn hissed at the kagouti, eyeing the ashy wind that still made it through the cracks. While it was shelter, it certainly didn’t look like it would be a very comfortable one, to his chagrin.

 

A creak echoed around the shack, and Teldryn turned to spy Cricket peeling open a floor panel.

 

“C’mon, there’s a basement. Pabba’s skin is tough enough that this will be enough for him, but I’d rather change out of my armor while we’re stuck here.”

 

He couldn’t agree more, and followed them down the ladder.

 

* * *

 

 

In the dusty stone basement, Cricket gently unraveled their pack first, letting a tiny, chicken-like reptile out of the bag. It cheeped at them, ruffled its featherless wings, and hopped over to explore the space.

 

“Someone enjoys being out of the storm too.” Teldryn commented, setting his helmet on a dusty table and running a hand through his mohawk. He grimaced, feeling the ash that had still managed to cling to his gray skin even with the armor.

 

He heard Cricket snort from where they were lighting a lantern, casting the room in dark indigo shadows and a soft orange glow. Bingbing, the bantam guar, tried to nip at the flickering shadows, to no avail.

 

While they lit the lanterns, Teldryn set his sword by the door and unbuckled his armor, carefully unraveling the straps to peel it off until he was down to his pants and boots. He dug around his pack after wrapping up the chitin plates, retrieving the bar of dry soap meant for days like these where a good source of water to wash off the ash wasn’t easily accessible.

 

He rolled the bar between his hands, warming and softening it, and watched Cricket as they lit the last of the lanterns, and reached to unravel their helmet.

 

Cricket wasn’t attractive, by conventional standards, but there was a certain _thing_ about them that Teldryn would admit, _did_ make them attractive anyway _._ Light bounced off their ashen gray skin, illuminating a soft face set with gentle red eyes and full lips. Black ink carved scoops under their eyes, and they shook the ash from their strip of braided black hair.

 

Slowly, they wormed their way out from under plates of bugshell armor, spear leaned against a dilapidated bookcase. Unlike Teldryn’s gentle care, Cricket dropped the chitin plate carelessly, even kicking the chestplate lined with soft ash canvas towards Bingbing, who curled up in the fabric as though it were a bed.

 

Teldryn shook his head quietly at the other dunmer’s habits, rubbing the soap down his bicep and peeling off a row of ash and grime.

 

The thing about their partnership, was that there really wasn’t any pretense of decency. Cricket paid him, and he traveled with them on their obscure quests. They had seen each other naked plenty of times, had pissed behind trees together when on the road.

 

And, when the aches between legs drove them to agonizing frustration, had fucked each other.

 

It wasn’t anything substantial. Neither really wanted to settle down, weren’t looking for a lover. Just a warm pair of arms and an orgasm or two. Teldryn was perfectly happy with that.

 

But it didn’t stop him from letting his red eyes roam over Cricket’s body as they cast off the last of their clothes, their bony frame padded with bits of fat around their arms and outer thighs, breasts laying relaxed over the tight but small swell of their stomach.

 

They stepped out of their pants, brushing a hand over their hair as they straightened up and fixed Teldryn with _that look_ , the one he was sure they didn’t know they made but spoke of _something_. The same look that lingered on lazy days when Cricket propped themself up on pillows and stroked their growing baby bump when they thought Teldryn didn’t notice.

 

“Do you have another bar of that?”

 

Teldryn leaned back over the bench, digging through his pack to toss a second bar of the soap to the small ashlander.

 

They fumbled, shooting him a glare as they leaned down to pick it up. They huffed when their belly pressed against the conjunction of their thighs.

 

“Next time you do that, _you_ get to pick it up.”

 

He grinned as they turned their back to him and warmed the soap, shucking his own pants to get his legs.

 

They worked in a comfortable silence as they stripped the ash from their bodies, the basement warmed by scattered lanterns. Occasionally, the bantam made a peeping snore, kicking a leg in its sleep.

 

Teldryn leaned back when he was done, relaxed by the soap’s oils, and he hummed. He unraveled a stack of moth-eaten blankets that were stashed under the bench, carrying them over to the equally old couch and piling them around it. He settled in and closed his eyes, content to doze until the storm passed.

 

_Drip._

 

He grunted, burying his face into the armrest.

 

_Drip. Drip._

 

A soft sigh broke the silence, and Teldryn cracked open an eye to see Cricket, back still turned to him, gingerly cradling a breast in their hand and wincing.

 

_Drip drip._

 

Teldryn felt his breath leave him as white fluid beaded up on their nipple, flowing over their fingers to leak onto their belly, onto the floor.

 

“I didn’t know you were lactating.”

 

Cricket frowned, turned to him, and _oh,_ the other nipple was leaking too.

 

“Yeah, well, I didn’t know my body would allow me to get pregnant either, what with things as twisted up as they are.”

 

He pushed himself to sit up, unfazed by their comment. He knew they meant nothing harsh by it, just that they were still so in the dark with their own body. Teldryn propped his hand under his chin, watching the rivulets of milk flow.

 

“How long?”

 

“Less than a week.”

 

He hummed. “Sore?”

 

“Mhmm.”

 

They were quiet for a few moments, Cricket kneading their breast gently and Teldryn simply watching, lost in thought.

 

“Need help?”

 

“Mm? No, it should stop in a few minutes.”

 

He burrowed himself deeper into the blankets, yawning.

 

“Suit yourself. Wake me if you need me.”

 

He shut his eyes, letting his body relax into the old cushions. His mind, however, honed in on the gentle rustle of Cricket moving, the muted rumble of the ash storms raging above, and the sound of leaking milk.

 

It wasn’t stopping, judging by the little _pliks_ still echoing off the stone floor, and Cricket’s bone-deep sigh.

 

More rustling. Teldryn opened his eyes, watching Cricket rifle through their pack for a soft cloth. They poured out a splash of water from their canteen, wetting the fabric, and gently wiping over their swollen nipples. They dabbed lightly, but Teldryn saw them wince, saw the cloth only become more damp. Cricket wasn’t getting anywhere.

 

“Offer’s still up.”

 

Cricket sighed, frustrated.

 

“Fine.”

 

Teldryn was sitting upright in a heartbeat, blankets bunched around his waist as the cushions dipped and Cricket settled themself, straddling him. They pressed the cloth into his hands, and he tried not to focus on how _sweet_ it smelled.

 

“I’m sore, so be gentle.”

 

He nodded mutely, a sense of gravity to the moment as he gently cupped a heavy, leaking breast in his hand and set to work.

 

The cloth, as silken as it was, made Teldryn feel like he was dragging sandpaper across their breast. He felt every fiber as though it were jagged and rough in comparison to the smooth, heated flesh. He pressed the cloth lightly against the leaking nipple, dark areola peeking over the fabric.

 

Cricket gave a muffled sigh, resting their forehead on his shoulder. It hardly took a few light presses, before the cloth was utterly soaked through and milk flowed out around and through it regardless.

 

“This isn’t working.” they mumbled.

 

Teldryn cocked his head, and gave the breast in his hand a squeeze. Cricket responded with a startled groan, and a stream of milk dribbled enthusiastically onto the blankets.

 

“Don’t do that, you’re gonna make a mess.” Cricket griped, tugging his mohawk in reprimand. He nuzzled his face against the swell of their chest, pausing for a moment and breathing in the sweet scent.

 

“Have you been leaking this badly before?”

 

Cricket shifted over his hips, and he felt a light press and slick against his thigh.

 

“...only once. Stuffed towels in my armor until it stopped.”

 

He gave a hum, and they shivered, nipple precariously close to his lips.

 

“You’re bits are reacting.” he murmured, and they gave a quiet swear.

 

“Ignore them.” Cricket grunted, as he gently rocked his thigh against their lower lips. Their cocklet poked at him, no bigger than Teldryn’s little finger. “My body is equating soreness with fucking. Just, help me get this pressure out.”

 

They guided his hand with the cloth back upwards, towards their chest, only for Teldryn to seal his lips over the nub of flesh.

 

Cricket jolted in his grip, fingers tensing around his neck as he kneaded and coaxed the milk into his mouth, taking a tentative swallow.

 

It was every bit as sweet as it smelled.

 

Teldryn gave an appreciative sound, running his tongue over the bud of flesh with confidence. Cricket went lax from where they straddled him, a relieved sound low in their throat. He rubbed their back as they seemed to melt into his touch and their eyes fluttered shut, their tension and irritation melting into a contented ease.

 

As awkward as the idea of breastfeeding from his employer sounded, he found he couldn’t really be bothered in the moment while he lapped up the cream. There was something intimate in the moment, wrapped up in old blankets and candlelight, lips mouthing around the nipple of a friend in hopes of easing a little of their ache. He shut his own eyes, easing the milk from their swollen chest and praying to Azura he could be gentle enough for them, gentle enough to not damage something akin to a miracle contained in the body of the ashlander.

 

“You’re so weird,” Cricket muttered through the quiet reverence of the moment. Teldryn pulled off the nipple with a quiet _pop_ sound, rubbing his thumb over the nub. Their breast still felt heavy, but the leaking had stopped.

 

“Do you want me to stop?”

 

A pause.

 

“My other tit is still sore.”

 

Teldryn gave an amused snort, but failed to speak in favor of lapping his tongue around their left breast.

 

He pressed gingerly around the nipple, testing pressure to best encourage the steady flow of warm fluid, letting it run over his tongue and down his throat. It left a warm feeling deep in his gut, memories stirring of cold Windhelm ice and the barkeep that treated him to something warm, something that soothed him to his core. It tasted like warmth, kindness, like a hug from within.

 

He glanced up, examining Cricket’s expression. This was new for them, their body changing in ways previously thought impossible, and yet, the look on their face was nothing but relaxed bliss. Like they were post-orgasm, sleepy and sated and drained from all tension.

 

Teldryn admitted, in the safety of his own thoughts, he understood that feeling. Wanted to curl up and fall asleep with a full, warm belly and the comfort of a friend.

 

Eventually, even gentle squeezes stopped producing that constant, heavy flow of milk, and Teldryn pulled back reluctantly. He wiped at a spot of fluid near the corner of his lips, and Cricket slumped, more relaxed than he’s seen them for weeks.

 

“Huh…”

 

“Mhmm.”

 

A couple of the lanterns had burned down, the room darkening a fraction more. Cricket slowly laid themself backwards, tangling their legs with Teldryn’s and settling into the blanket nest. They gently stroked their belly, eyes heavy with sleepiness.

 

“Thanks. Baby and I needed that.”

 

Teldryn shrugged, shifting deeper into the cushions himself. “Mhm. Not too late for a lazy fuck too, if your bits are still active.

 

A chuckle.

 

“Nope, the bits can take a day off. Maybe another time. Right now, I’m sore, I’m tired, Baby and I are ready to sleep through the storm.”

 

“Honestly, I think I’ll have to agree with you.” Teldryn smirked, tugging a few more blankets into the pile. “Wake me up if you start leaking again.”

 

Quiet shuffling sounded from both sides, Teldryn turning to rest on his side and Cricket burrowing onto the blankets.

 

...

 

Just as Cricket was teetering on the edge of sleep, Teldryn’s quiet voice broke the stillness.

 

“You know, if this storm goes on for too long, we could probably survive off your breast milk.”

 

A pillow whapped him in the face.

 

“Go the fuck to sleep.”

 

* * *

 

 


End file.
